


One True Queen

by AbsinthexMind



Series: Oh brother where art thou [29]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Betrayal, Cheating, F/M, Heartbreak, Implied/Referenced Incest, Near Death Experiences, Partner Betrayal, Running Away
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-06-07
Packaged: 2020-03-07 17:42:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18878050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AbsinthexMind/pseuds/AbsinthexMind
Summary: What he had done was the greatest insult to you. One that you thought he would never do. You knew he loved you with all his heart, that was certain. You were his sister and his wife. However, that all changed when he took Lyanna Stark as his second wife.





	1. Chapter 1

“How could you do this to me Rhaegar?!” You howl at your brother, hating it even more when he wouldn’t even give you the courtesy of meeting your anguished gaze. What he had done was the greatest insult to you. One that you thought he would never do. You knew he loved you with all his heart, that was certain. You were his sister and his wife. However, that all changed when he took Lyanna Stark as his second wife, claiming that he loved her as well. “You’ve humiliated me!” 

“(y/n), please-” 

You swiped at his well meaning hand as he tries to console you. He and Lyanna had eloped, not telling anyone until they came back to King’s Landing; Lyanna now being as much a wife as you were. “I don’t want her in our bed! I don’t want her in this palace! Do you even care about how much you have hurt me?!” 

Rhaegar bows his head in shame. “I never wanted to hurt you (y/n). I love you. But I also can’t deny my heart Lyanna.” 

Daggers straight in your chest, you turn your back to him and head for the window. Through tear filled eyes you gaze at the Stark banner that had just entered the gates of the Keep. You knew there was trouble when you saw her at the Tourney at Harrenhal. Even worse was your brother crowning her the Queen of Love and Beauty. 

“Is. . . Is this because I haven’t gotten pregnant yet?” 

You hear him take a few steps closer before thinking better of it and staying put. “Of course not. Jorrāelagon-” 

“Don’t call me that!” Finally snapping and doing away with your tears you yell “Get out! Go to your Lyanna!” 

He flinched, visibly wounded. Good. You wanted him to feel every inch of pain that you were going through. Even though you were forced to marry him by your father, you loved him all the same. You had thought he loved you just as much. Apparently you had been wrong. 

Like a beaten dog, Rhaegar sulks out of your bedroom. A bedroom you had shared with him for years, even before you had been officially married. You didn’t know which mood you wanted to favor: anger or sorrow. You choose to crumple up against the wall and squeeze your eyes tight. Maybe it was just a dream and your world wasn’t really ending. When you woke up you and Rhaegar would be cuddled together in bed. 

You were still there though when you opened your eyes. All alone.   
  
  
  
  
  


You refuse to come out of your chambers for days. Refuse anyone who goes calling to you. The one time you dared to step out of your room you heard the gossip of two maids. They whispered and tried to keep their giggles at bay as one told the other that Rhaegar had took Lyanna as another wife because his first one wasn’t pleasing him enough. That she had failed to have any children. That she possibly couldn’t have any children. You had immediately run right back to your room. You just wanted to disappear completely. 

The outside world wouldn’t let you though. A week into your self-exile you heard a great commotion coming from down the hall. You open your door just a little bit to take a peak. 

“HOW DARE YOU SAY THAT ABOUT MY SISTER YOU CUR!! IF I HEAR ANYMORE OF THIS GOSSIP I’LL HAVE ALL OF YOUR TONGUES RIPPED OUT FROM YOUR MOUTH!!” 

Viserys. Who else possessed such a temper? 

“It’s good to see you’re finally out, my lady.” 

You jump at the gentle voice of Ser Arthur Dayne. “A-Arthur. . . You startled me.” 

His smile did wonders on your mood. “My apologies. I couldn’t help but say something once I saw you finally emerge from your crypt.” Dayne’s smile is quick to disappear. “It must be foolish of me to ask, but how are you my lady?” 

“How do you think she is?” Came the harsh voice of your little brother Viserys. With his tiny body, even Viserys commands attention. He was barely the sweet age of 12 and he already carried himself like a full grown man. “My brother has just broken her heart and embarrassed her in front of all the realm! With that Stark whore no less. What a disgrace. I’m surprised he has no shame.” Finally he turns to you and cups your face. “Oh sweet sister, how he must have hurt you.” 

You see Arthur roll his eyes behind Viserys. “Don’t talk like that Viserys. It’s unbecoming of you.” 

Viserys straightens up at your gentle reprimand of his behavior. “Can you blame me though? Rhaegar has caused nothing but trouble since bringing that- . . . that woman here.” 

“He’s right.” Arthur sighs, hating to agree with the young prince. “Your father is furious and your mother. . . well, she feels your grief, (y/n).” 

“And all the peasants gossip.” Your brother spits in agitation. “We should have everyone of them killed.” 

Now you roll your eyes. He was taken way too much after your father. Aerys had certainly brainwashed little Viserys to think just as he does. He poisoned your sweet brothers mind. Viserys was still your brother though. “Now, now Viserys. Calm down.” 

Normally he would’ve fought anyone who told him to calm down. But you were his older sister, an older sister whom a loved dearly. So he bit his tongue. You could see from the reddening of his cheeks how much he wanted to tell you off. To soothe him you smoothe his soft, silver, hair. “I know what they think about me. I know they think it’s my fault for not doing my wifely role in keeping my husband satisfied and bearing children for him. I also know that father must be upset with me as well and put some of the blame on me.” Another ache in your chest alerts you that if you didn’t stop speaking, tears would soon fill your eyes. What kind of princess would you be if you cried in front of Ser Arthur Dayne and your young brother? Your father had raised you differently. 

“I tried to tell him. . .” Arthur admits forlornly. “I tried to tell him it wouldn’t be a good idea. Oh how I tried to talk him out of it. Of course Griff was no help at all. He agrees with whatever Rhaegar wants to do.” 

Managing a weak smile you shake your head. “I know, Arthur. I know. What’s done is done. I can’t change anything. We’ve tried for years to get pregnant. I’m just not good enough.” Your hand drops from Viserys’ head and you go back into your room without another word. Feeling the rapidly growing hollow pit in your heart, your body moves of it’s own accord to a chest you kept at the foot of your bed. In it was something very valuable. A relic of when the Targaryens were truly powerful. Kneeling down, your fingers move underneath the latch and flip it up. Underneath several layers of silk you unearth your fossilized dragon egg. It had been a wedding gift from some dignitary that hailed from Essos. A true treasure indeed. Although the egg itself held no life in it, you cradled it against your chest. Sometimes when you did so it felt like a baby; warm. You held onto it tightly. 

Your life was in ruins. Rhaegar no longer needed you and you were just taking up space in the Red Keep. 

That night you packed your things, including your dragon egg, and fled from the Keep. What point was there in staying? You would only be reminded of the failure you were. Being the princess didn’t make your escape easy. You encountered Ser Arthur during your exodus. He could’ve stopped you. Escorted you back to your chambers, but he knew it was for the best. So in the dead of night he helped you escape while finding an inn outside of King’s Landing to keep you at where people’s voices could be paid to keep quiet. Just until Arthur could find you proper lodgings. Of course when word got out that the princess was missing, every Targaryen guard was on the lookout for you. That was fine. You didn’t want to leave your room anyway.   
  
*   
  
  


As soon as he could, Ser Arthur Dayne got onto his horse and was rushing out of King’s Landing. He had to warn her. When Rhaegar took Lyanna he had angered Robert Baratheon, Lyanna’s fiance. Robert was raging war against him in order to get Lyanna back. Appalled by such actions, Lyanna had sent a letter to Robert only to enrage him further. He didn’t like looking like a fool and being made a cuckold. To make matters worse, word had slipped that a certain Targaryen princess was hidden away at some inn. Arthur knew not to trust Varys, that that eunuch was playing for whatever side paid him more. Now there were Baratheon soldiers heading for the inn. Heading for (y/n).   
  
*   
  


Smoke. That was the smell that woke you up. 

Blinking your eyes open you lazyly lift your head from your pillow. You couldn’t see anything in the dark and with your brain already foggy from sleep, you were prepared to lay your head back down before you heard a scream from downstairs. Immediately you bolt up and grab for your egg that you had set on your nightstand. More horrendous screams and now doors in your hallway were banging open as the other occupants went out to see what was going on. 

“Fire!!” 

That scream soon escalated into a horrendous howl of pain as light brushed underneath your door. More cries of death soon followed making your heart pound. You hurl yourself to the window and try to open it. As you gazed outside you noticed banners waving in the wind. Your own bannermen wouldn’t burn you alive, would they? No, no one knew you were there. How could anyone know you were there? 

Once it was clear that the window wasn’t an option even as you smashed the glass pane, you bolted to the door. The doorknob should’ve scalded your palm as you twisted it open, yet it didn’t. As soon as you opened the door, flames stretched out toward you, painting your room with blaring orange light. You backed away, true panic making your heart nearly leap out of your chest as you were running out of options. The wood underneath your foot creaked as the fire at away at it. 

Squeezing your eyes shut, you hold on tightly to your dragon egg and await to be burned alive.   
  
  
  


“Princess (y/n)!” 

“Gods, is she dead?!” 

“Someone call for Ser Arthur and Ser Jaime! Tell him we found the princess!” 

“Wait- BACK UP!!” 

Slowly your eyelids flutter open. You weren’t dead. That was the first thing you were able to comprehend. The second thing was something moving in your arms. A nip at your breast truly woke you up. You didn’t have time to register your surroundings as you look down to your arms. To your shock and amazement, a tiny dragon was suckling at your breast. Your breath was stuck in your throat. An actual dragon. It’s then you take notice of your lack of clothes and the ash and soot that covered your body. In fact it covered the entire area around you. Only the skeletal remains of the inn were all that were left from the fire. That and a legion of Targaryen soldiers staring at you with a mixture of fear and dismay. 

“My lady. . .” Ser Arthur breathes, truly unable to believe his eyes. 

The little red dragon moves in your arms. Detaching itself from your breast he turns his head at the soldiers and lets out a tiny hiss that had the soldiers jumping back. 

You couldn’t explain the tears that were suddenly in your eyes as you laughed hysterically.


	2. Part Two (Finale)

Dawn was barely breaking through the sleepy sky as your party finally reached the Red Keep; your little dragon having kept you warm the entire ride back. All the Targaryen soldiers were still in shock at what had unfolded. 

The little dragon that had hatched hours ago was snuggled against your chest, snapping at any soldier that dared to look your way. Red scales burned brightly as he would every so often peek his head out from behind the cloak that Ser Arthur had draped over you. Bright yellow eyes stare curiously at the rising buildings. Someday he would be larger than any of them. 

An actual dragon after so many years. Everyone said that dragons were extinct, The ones that were able to hatch didn’t last long and didn’t grow any larger than a dog. You immediately fear of what your father, Aerys would do once he found out that there was a dragon alive. What would he do to your poor little one? 

As if reading your mind, he looks up at you and opens his mouth in a soft squeak. You scratch at his head scales with your index finger, he happily rubs his tiny skull against your touch. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.” You were finally a mother. 

“My lady, may I help you down?” Jaime Lannister asks, a bit hesitantly; his green eyes darting to the scarlet creature in your arms. Normally Ser Jaime was fearless; one had to be to have achieved being a knight at such a young age. Even Jaime was wary of your scaly child. 

Being a few feet off the ground you took him up on the offer despite Little Red hissing in protest. He nearly snapped at Jaime’s fingers making the knight flinch away after he safely set you down on the ground. 

From there you knew the way. Up the stone steps and into the Red Keep. You knew you would have explaining to do. The other knights and soldiers would have to explain to your father that Robert Baratheon had nearly had you killed in the fire that took down the inn and many other lives. You knew the only thing he’d be interested in was your dragon.   
  
  


You were escorted into the Throne Room amid a cloud of shouts and yells that even Aerys couldn’t control with his own voice. 

“Just give back the Stark girl!!” Someone shouted. 

“A war with the Baratheons isn’t worth it!” 

Ser Arthur swiftly moves to your side as the crowd in front of you blocks you from view. He clears his throat and announces “MAKE WAY FOR THE PRINCESS!!” 

It was loud enough to cut through everyone else as the crowd begins to turn around; a collective gasp filling the arid chamber. Eyes widen and mouths openly gawk. Seeing the crowd ripple and buzz with soft murmurs had King Aerys standing from his seat on the Iron Throne. Your father still looked the same; decrepit and insane with his long white hair and gnarly nails that looked more akin to talons from a falcon. The crown on top of his head was crooked, fitting too big for his undernourished skull. Beside the large throne forged of the fallen blades of those who had undermined Targaryen rule were your brothers. Viserys standing on the tips of his toes and Rhaegar. Lyanna was nowhere to be seen, something you were grateful for. 

Everyone parted, making way for you as you took slow steps toward the throne. Now the rest of your family saw what the other royals had. The precious dragon in your arms. Red like the three-headed one on your sigil. 

“Impossible.” His voice is dry as he stares incredulously your way. 

Viserys’ lilac eyes sparkle, wide with astonishment. “By the Gods. . .” 

As if to finish everyone else’s thoughts, Rhaegar breathes out “A dragon.” 

Then slowly a wicked smile cracks on the Mad King’s withered face as he cackles “A dragon! A Targaryen dragon!! Well done (y/n)!! Come closer! Let me see it!” 

A bit confident with your little one in your arms, you step up to the base of the Iron Throne, trying to avoid Rhaegar’s gaze. 

“Remarkable.” Aerys continues to grin, coveting your newly hatched dragon. It had been centuries since the Targaryens last were able to hatch a dragon, let alone have it grow to it’s full mass. And now there you were. His daughter, bringing back the true Targaryen legacy. You saw the twinkle in his pale eyes. The thoughts that were rolling in that demented mind of his. Already you knew that he would try to monopolize him. To use him to terrorize his imaginary enemies. You wouldn’t let that happen. “Was it true that that Baratheon bastard tried to burn you?” 

You nod. “Yes. The fires did not scorch me though.” 

“A true dragon. Who would’ve thought my daughter would bring back the dragons!” He rises to his full height. “BEHOLD! MY DAUGHTER! MOTHER OF DRAGONS!” 

Applause erupted and your dragon slithered onto your shoulders. Daring to look at your brother, his focus is down on the ground. Shame.   
  
  
  
  
  


As soon as you arrived, buzz of you and your dragon spread through Westeros like wildfire. And just like you had thought your father tried to monopolize your dragon and use it to his own will. He invited many other lords to witness the fearsome glory of the Targaryens. In all that time You barely saw your brother Rhaegar. You didn’t know how it was possible for him to continue to break your heart, but he did. Everyone was paying attention to you except for the one person that mattered most. 

One evening when you were finally able to get away from your father’s court and the mystified eyes and kiss ass words of the other noblemen, you and your dragon, took a much needed stroll. He was already growing so quickly. Balerion ate the finest meats and despite your father wanting to lock him up, you let him roam freely and took him outside so that he could stretch his little wings even though he couldn’t yet fly. He made small attempts to catch flight but he was still too tiny. 

You giggle at another attempt of his. “Soon my little Spitfyre.” You had named him such due to his already feisty attitude. Already he had nearly taken off one of your father’s fingers and singed Maester Pycelle’s beard. He didn’t like when any other man was near you. Even Viserys was not allowed near your vicinity. 

Mood already growing lighter, the last thing you wanted to see was Rhaegar with Lyanna. The stopped immediately as did you. Spitfyre continued to romp around the grounds, hunting down bugs or even better, stray rats. Once he sensed your uneasiness though he turned his scaly head to you then to the couple. Releasing a mighty hiss, he scampered back to you and made his way to your shoulders. 

You couldn’t help but look over Lyanna Stark. Unable to resist the resentment you immediately held for her. To make matters worse, she was utterly beautiful in that cold, northern, way of her’s. Beautifully pale skin that must be suffering from the south; rich, dark, hair that gave her an even more edgy appearance. And those eyes. Piercing gray eyes, decorated with long lashes. 

Lyanna shifted uncomfortably next to your brother, cautiously eying Spitfyre. A northerner’s natural instinct was to be mistrustful. 

“(y/n). . .” 

“Rhaegar.” You reply cooly and nod to Lyanna. “Lady Stark.” You refused to call her a Targaryen mostly out of spite. It was her fault after all. She was the reason why Robert Baratheon tried to kill you. Then again, you wouldn’t have had Spitfyre if it wasn’t for Lyanna. You would have to thank her later once all your wounds had healed. She purses her lips yet doesn’t dare to antagonize you. “Princess (y/n). So glad to see you back, safe and sound.” 

“Yes, too bad Robert Baratheon forgot that fire cannot kill a dragon.” Absentmindedly you scratch at Spitfyre’s chin. He stretches his wings out while softly making a noise akin to a cat’s purr. 

Rhaegar takes a step forward. “(y/n), I’ve been meaning to talk with you.” He turns slightly to Lyanna. “I’ll meet you back inside.” 

Warily Lyanna shifts her gaze toward you before leaving. 

Now it was just you and Rhaegar. It had been quite a while the last time you were left alone with him. Everything was different now. “What do you have to say to me?” 

“You know I love you. I can’t apologize enough for what has happened. When news came about Robert. . . I nearly lost it. The thought of losing you-” 

“I don’t want anymore of your faux sweet words, Rhaegar.” 

“They aren’t fake (y/n).” Rhaegar tries once more but then decides it’s useless with a shake of his head. “We can deal with that some other time. There’s urgent business I wanted to discuss with you. If. . . If you will follow me.” 

Digging his talons a bit in your shoulder to stabilize himself as you follow Rhaegar, Spitfyre flaps his wings a little bit at the jostling movement.   
  
  


Deep in the cells of the Red Keep, you began to grow suspicious, even Spitfyre was displaying his attitude in being confined in a dark tunnel. Rhaegar opens a heavy door; inside resides Ser Arthur Dayne, Ser Jon Connington, Varys, Barristan Selmy, and several other house delegates, even including a Lannister messenger. 

Scowling, you lift your chin up to look questioningly at your brother. “What’s going on?” 

“Please come in, Princess.” Varys insists. “Then we will let you in on all that we’ve been working on.” 

Spitfyre hisses as Rhaegar moves behind you to close the door. It was incredibly dark besides a small candle that Varys held; casting shadows across the faces of the other men in the room. 

“(y/n), we’ve been planning for some time on over throwing our father. Surely you know how insane he’s become. He isn’t fit to be king anymore. Now more than ever. . .” explains Rhaegar. 

Barristan Selmy nods. “Indeed. Ever since you came back with your dragon, he has become even more delusional, I’m afraid. He’s getting ideas in his head.” 

“Yes, I’ve heard talk that he’s been wanting to take your dragon away to use as his own.” Varys informs. 

That scared you. You had known the moment you set foot back at the Red Keep that he would want to do something like that. To take Spitfyre and use him for his own gain. But to overthrow him? 

“So what, get rid of father and make you king?” 

“Not exactly. . .” Rhaegar rubs the back of his neck. 

Ser Arthur Dayne speaks up “This is where you come in Princess. We want to crown you as Queen of Westeros. True, Rhaegar is beloved by many but with this stint with Lyanna. . . Well, it has upset a lot of people. You though. . . You have sparked a new inspiration in many. You have brought back a dragon. Surely you can do more miracles.” 

“Me as queen?” The title was weird on your tongue. Yet it would’ve been the title had your father died and Rhaegar become king. “What about you Rhaegar?” 

He sighs. “You heard Arthur. I’ve stepped on many toes. I would step down on my claim. If you’ll have me, then I rule beside you to a smaller degree. . .” 

You spit out “What about Lyanna.” 

That made the others murmur quietly among one another. Even Rhaegar was hesitant to reply. “I don’t want to give her up (y/n). . .” 

Laughing bitterly you shake your head. “So you’ll give me up instead?” 

“No-” 

“What I believe your brother is trying to say” Varys steps in frantically, not wanting to lose your attention “is that you would solely be the ruling figure. Lady Lyanna would not have the title as queen and Rhaegar would not be called king. That is unless you want him to be your king.” 

“The point of this all is that we want you to be Queen of all of Westeros.” Griff pipes up. 

“The one true queen.” Rhaegar says softly. 

They all knelt before you. Everyone of them ready to pledge their loyalty. 

You close your eyes. Spitfyre crying in approval and encouragement.


End file.
